We understand people on the other side (of the ocean, of the window, of the divide) but they aren’t us.
Where was I on 9/11? I was in Montreal, unknowingly fighting my own demon called appendicitis. I nearly died. This is my story, my truth. The 9/11 story of my life.
“Hi, I have a letter from the landlord. I think they want to raise your rent.”
I’ve been there so often in my life that it’s almost become a horrible mantra in my head. That feeling of not being good enough for the people close to you. That feeling of being a failure to them. Of disappointing them with everything you are. Well guess what? Stop thinking like that.
Once upon a time, I did some work for my mother because I was going to do “a beautiful job” (her words). She thought I had a beautiful style and an eye for great design and liked to tell everyone how good I was. Unfortunately, my mother suffers from the belief that an age-old design myth is true. Here it is, debunked.
I’ll be extremely honest… I’m a procrastinator at heart. You wouldn’t know it, though, because I’m a productive beast when it absolutely matters. And I’ve made miracles happen with my productivity which comes straight out of a need to be procrastinating. Weird, right?
Getting fired is never fun. I only got fired once in my life, and that was definitely not the exception to the rule. If anything, I pretty much couldn’t feel a thing as it was happening. I barely remember the moment I was told I was out. Here’s the story of how I got fired, pretty much died inside for half a year, and then got offered a little lifeline.